


three

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Djinni & Genies, M/M, New York Rangers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Foreplay, Rope Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 01:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18768727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Chris’ flight or fight response tries to kick in and he briefly considers knocking the lamp to the ground, shattering it. He also considers making a run for it, locking it and the smoke in his bedroom for the rest of eternity.He does neither of those things and, instead, watches the smoke take the shape of a woman.“Don’t look so terrified,” the smoke-woman says, tugging the last of herself from the lamp. “My name is Yenna and I’m a sex genie.”Chris blinks.





	three

**Author's Note:**

> yeah hi, pls don't look at me

  
1

  
Chris loves when an off-day lands on a Sunday so he can escape to the flea markets that pop up in the suburbs. He likes the smaller ones with antiques and old books by the dozen. He likes looking at all the trinkets and outdated furniture, bookcases full of tattered covers and yellowing pages.

He weaves his way between tables covered in lamps with tasseled shades and paintings in ornate golden frames, knickknacks shaped like elephants and little children with rosy cheeks.

Chris doesn’t see anything he likes right away, making sure to go up and down every aisle. There’s a particularly odd stall covered over in clocks and fake plants. There’s a lot of wooden flower pots and old, tarnished silverware. A few pots and pans and a nice set of blue flowered china.

He spots a plain wooden table near the back, covered over in an odd assortment of things. He scans through the box of records and, finding nothing he likes, moves on to the salt and pepper shakers shaped like cows. On the far corner of the table is a lamp with a semi-sheer white shade and an old school pull string to turn it on. Chris flicks the crystal on the end of it and watches it sway.

It’s a nice lamp, one that would go well in his bedroom. He picks it up to examine the base and has to swallow a laugh.

The base of the lamp is a penis.

A perfectly anatomical, erect penis.

The price tag is set at $25 and Chris takes it to the counter without question.

  
He finds a home for the lamp in his bedroom, plugging it in immediately. The lamp turns on, casting a penis-shaped shadow on his wall. It’s fantastic. The team is going to love it the next time he hosts a game night.

Satisfied, he moves to click it off but as he reaches for the chain, the shade suddenly glows red.

A stream of pale smoke twists from the very tip of the penis. Chris’ flight or fight response tries to kick in and he briefly considers knocking the lamp to the ground, shattering it. He also considers making a run for it, locking it and the smoke in his bedroom for the rest of eternity.

He does neither of those things and, instead, watches the smoke take the shape of a woman.

“Don’t look so terrified,” the smoke-woman says, tugging the last of herself from the lamp. “My name is Yenna and I’m a sex genie.”

Chris blinks.

“I’m here to grant you three wishes.” The genie settles at the foot of Chris’s bed, her form getting more and more solid by the second.

“E-excuse me?”

Yenna clears her throat and produces a rolled-up piece of parchment from thin air. A pink-white smoke puffs out around it. “Since you purchased my lamp, I am obligated to grant you three wishes. Since I am a sex genie, your wishes should be sexual in nature.” She pauses to unroll the parchment. “I am here to make your fantasies come true, if you so desire. There are a few rules and regulations to go over before we can get started, but that’s the gist of it.”

Chris has no idea how to respond so he continues to stand there in gaping silence.

Yenna eventually takes pity on his soul. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes!” he blurts. “Yes, I’ll…yes.”

“Perfect.” Yenna turns back to her parchment to read. “In exchange for wish fulfillment, the owner of the lamp agrees to resell or give away the lamp after the contract has been completed. In addition, the owner of the lamp may be contacted in the future by the genie to fulfill another owner’s wishes if the genie believes their desires and skills align. Once the contract is signed by both the owner of the lamp and the genie, the contract is binding until three wishes are granted.”

Chris frowns. “That kind of sounds like bribing me into indentured servitude. Is there a time limit to how long I’ll be required to fulfil other wishes?”

“If I show up after your wishes are granted, you can tell me no,” she says, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. “I’m not a _monster_.”

“Well that’s not very clear in your contract.”

Yenna appraises Chris, flicking her eyes up and down her body. “You must be a lawyer.”

“I know about contracts.” Chris huffs. “I have another question.”

“Go on,” Yenna says, sounding bored.

“How will you know if my desires and skills al--.”

“I’m a sex genie,” Yenna interrupts. “It’s kind of my forte.”

That seems fair enough. In a really ridiculous, totally unbelievable way. “Okay.”

A dainty feather quill appears just as the parchment had moments before. “Sign here, then.”

Chris scans the contract, a habit instilled in him by his agent his first year in the league, before scrawling his name along the bottom of it. The genie does the same before rolling it up and making it vanish in a cloud of smoke.

“Now that the tedious part is done,” Yenna says, standing. “What’s your first wish?”

A hot flush runs down Chris’s spine. “Do I have to pick something right now?”

The genie shrugs. “Surely you have something you want, something you don’t have to think about. Something that popped into your head the moment I said _sexual fantasy_.”

Her words are almost like a purr by the end and Chris shivers despite himself. “A threesome,” he blurts.

Yenna smiles, appraising him. “Give me two days.”

  
Chris spends the next 48 hours in a constant state of anxiety. When he’s not at the rink or playing games, he’s straightening the house, washing the sheets, and picking up all of his dirty laundry. He even cleans out the fridge. He considers moving the penis lamp to another room, one his anticipated guests won’t see, but something stops him.

Maybe the magic doesn’t work if it’s not in a bedroom.

The doorbell rings, gabbing his focus. He checks his hair in the mirror by the front door before opening it.

“I have a delivery for Christopher Kreider,” Yenna says, presenting a pair of men who look…extremely familiar.

“Oh, shit,” he says, considering slamming the door in their faces.

“Whoa, wait,” Jimmy says, slapping his hand against the door. “Don’t freak out.”

“Are you kidding me?” Chris scoffs.

Brady shrugs, totally casual about showing up on Chris’ doorstop looking like a full three-course meal ready to fuck. “It’s no big deal,” he says.

“And besides,” Jimmy adds. “We agreed to do this. So, like. We’re down for whatever.”

Yenna seems totally delighted. “I’ve never matched co-workers before. This should be _fun_.”

Chris’s mouth goes a little dry. “Yeah, right. Fun.”

Jimmy laughs at him. “Are you gonna let us in, or are we fucking on the front porch?”

Chris stands back from the door, letting them pile in. “Can I, uh, get you something to drink?”

Jimmy’s got his hands in his pockets, looking around the entry way like he’s never seen a house before. “Nah, I think we can skip right to the show. If that’s alright?”

Chris feels like he’s running on his last two braincells, barely functioning enough to nod. This is…this is nuts. “Are you two…uh…” Wow, language skills strong.

“Together?” Brady circles, dragging fingertips along the curve of Chris’ shoulder. “You’re not real observant, are you bud?” He punctuates the question with a soft kiss to the nape of his neck.

“I resent that!”

Jimmy laughs. “Yeah, bro. We’re together.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?” Brady asks, his lips almost brushing Chris’ ear when he speaks.

“I’m pretty open minded,” he rushes out in one breath.

“I think we can work with that.” Jimmy steps fully into his space and drags his thumb along the shape of Chris’ jaw before leaning in for a kiss.

His lips are dry and soft, tongue parting Chris’ smoothly. Brady’s hands wind around Chris’ hips from behind, fingers slipping up under his shirt. Chris sighs against Jimmy’s mouth when Brady fits his teeth to the curve of his neck.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” Brady asks.

“Yeah,” Chris sighs, turning to pull Brady in, pressing their mouths together. He walks him toward the bedroom blindly and misses the doorway, shoving him up against the wall instead.

He opens his mouth to apologize only to find Brady’s eyes swallowed up by desire. “You like that?”

“He likes that,” Jimmy says, working on Chris’ belt.

Brady grabs Chris’ hand, tugging him through the doorway and into the bedroom. Chris thinks Yenna is hovering over the tip of her lamp in the corner but then Brady gets his fingers all twisted up in his hair and that’s kind of all he cares about.

Brady kisses him again, tracing his way from his lips to his jaw and down behind his ear. Chris tilts his head back to give him more room to work.

Jimmy works on the buttons of Chris’ shirt, eventually slipping it down off his arms to let it pool on the floor. He traces the curve of Chris’ shoulder, drawing delicate designs with the barest tip of his finger.

Brady leans back to get his polo up and over his head, dropping it to the floor with little ceremony. His chest is smooth and fit and Chris reaches for it on instinct alone, pressing his hand right to the center before dragging it down to the waist of his khakis.

“These too,” he says, flipping the tongue of Brady’s belt out of its buckle.

Jimmy dips his fingertips into Chris’ jeans, grinding up against his ass. “You first.”

Chris strips quickly, not bothering to make a show of it as he wiggles his jeans down his legs. Brady’s down to his black briefs when he’s done, sitting on the bed with his thighs spread wide. Jimmy shoves Chris toward him and he goes easily, tilting Brady’s chin up for a kiss.

Brady twists Chris around with two firm hands on his hips, settling him in the space he’s made between his thighs. Chris watches Jimmy lose his shirt. He likes how different they are, Jimmy’s muscled chest is so much leaner than Brady’s.  
He’s pale and freckled where Brady’s tan. The cut of their shoulders are the same, though, and Chris wants to get his mouth on them, mark them both up.

As Jimmy unbuckles his belt, Brady slips a hand between Chris’s legs. “Already so hot for it, eh?”

He moans, head dropping back onto Brady’s chest. “Please.”

Jimmy laughs softly. “When you ask so nicely.”

He folds to his knees, shouldering between Chris’s legs and getting his boxers off. Brady slings one of Chris’ legs over his own knee, opening him up. “Jimmy takes direction well,” he offers. “So, don’t hold back.”

Jimmy brushes kisses along Chris’s inner thigh, mapping out a path to where he’s hard and wanting. The first press of his tongue is nothing more than a taste, a barely-there swipe along the tip of his dick, but Chris grits his teeth against the pleasure.

Jimmy builds him up like a pro before taking his dick deep, slowly pulling off. He sucks gently at the head and Chris can’t take it, getting his hand around the back of his neck to hold him in place. “More,” he gasps.

Jimmy redoubles his efforts, flicking the very tip of his tongue against where Chris is most sensitive until his legs are shaking with it. Brady’s hand slides over Chris’ hip and into the mess Jimmy’s made of him. He tugs at his balls and Chris whines as Jimmy sucks him close to an orgasm.

“’m s’close,” he says.

Jimmy pulls back, wiping a hand across his lips, shiny with spit.

“You want to be filled?” Brady asks, hand still playing with Chris’ balls. “Want us to lay you out and fuck you nice and slow?”

Chris has to remind himself that this is because of Yenna, that she knows what he wants and went out and found two guys who could give it to him. Two guys he happens to know, happens to work with. He has to remind himself that Jimmy and Brady have just as much to lose as he does, in this scenario. “Yes, yes.”

It’s a scramble to get on the bed but Chris lands on his back with his legs spread, feet planted on the mattress. Brady settles on his knees between them, his dick flushed and hard, slick at the tip. It’s a nice dick, proportional.

Chris wants it. “Please,” he begs, again.

Jimmy passes Brady a bottle of lube and he gets his fingers messy before working one inside.

It’s torture and Chris tries to take more, arching his hips and grabbing for Brady’s shoulder. Jimmy snatches his hand away, pinning it to the bed. “Be good,” he says.

Chris’ blood runs hot and he can feel himself flush at Jimmy’s words. The truth is, Chris isn’t a small guy. He’s heavy and likes to throw his weight around, could easily wrench his wrist from Jimmy’s grasp but he…he doesn’t want to.

Brady fills him with another finger, stretching him out. Chris clutches at the bedspread instead of grabbing for him. He wants to dig his nails into Brady’s skin, wants to drag bright red lines down his back and wrap his legs tight around his hips but Jimmy’s fingers stay firm around his wrist and Chris gets an unexpected thrill from staying still. From doing what he’s told.

“So good for us,” Jimmy whispers.

Chris’s mouth falls open in a breathy moan and Jimmy swallows it up, kissing him fiercely.

Brady thrust his fingers almost lazily, grinding in deep before withdrawing slower than Chris can stand. He twitches with the need to move, the desire to meet Brady halfway, to get Jimmy’s fingers around his dick. To use and be used.

“Fuck,” he says. “C’mon. Quit being a tease.”

Brady smirks, pulling all the way out. “You want more?”

“Yes.”

Jimmy tosses Brady a condom and he gets it on easily. In one impressive motion, Brady lifts Chris’ legs over his shoulders and fits himself to where he’s open. He slips in with little resistance, Chris’ body welcoming him and his perfect dick without question. Brady snaps his hips once and then again and again, building up a rhythm so the sounds of sex finally fill the room.

Jimmy slips two fingers into Chris’s mouth and he sucks without thinking, getting them wet.

“You like having something in your mouth?” he asks.

Chris tries to take his fingers further, tries to show him exactly how much he likes it.

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs, dragging his fingers across Chris’ lips and down his chin. “Yeah, you do.”

He’s nodding when Brady pulls out, when Jimmy pushes himself up onto the bed, when the three of them find a way they all connect.

Jimmy’s straddling his chest, hard cock dangling in front of Chris like the sweetest treat. He licks at the head, tasting how badly Jimmy wants this.

“Can you take us both?” Brady asks over Jimmy’s shoulder, still settled between Chris’s legs.

He flushes with want. “Absolutely, yes. C’mon.”

Jimmy gets up on his knees and grabs onto the headboard before feeding his cock into Chris’ waiting mouth. He’s thick, stretching his lips to their limit.

Chris only gets a few thrusts to adjust before Brady spreads his ass wide and slips back in and fuck, he’s never felt so full. Brady’s slow to build up his rhythm again, getting a hand on Chris’ dick as the whole bed starts to rock.

Chris’ legs twitch with the pleasure of it all and he sucks at Jimmy’s dick to try and take his mind off the orgasm that’s cresting in his belly. He digs his fingers into Jimmy’s thighs as he starts rolling his hips, fucking his mouth.  
It’s filthy.

“So gorgeous with your mouth full,” Brady says, grinding into him. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last.”

“You gonna come?” Jimmy asks, the tip of his dick resting on Chris’ bottom lip. “Gonna come for us?”

He wants it. Wants to clench up all around them, pull them both over the edge with him. He’s close, Brady’s hand working him over as he keeps fucking him. Jimmy pushes his cock deep and Chris nearly gags, his eyes watering.

Jimmy groans, wiping the tears that spill from the corner of his eyes. “Take it so well.”

Chris preens at the praise, not bothered with any embarrassment anymore. He arches his back to try to be good for both of them. Brady’s thrusts are getting erratic, his fingers digging into Chris’ hips as he chases his release.

Buried deep, Brady drags Chris to the edge of orgasm and doesn’t hesitate to push him over.

His mouth goes slack as pleasure overtakes every one of his senses. Jimmy pulls his dick out and sprints toward his own end, focusing on the head until he covers Chris’s lips in come.

They fill the room with ragged, gasping breaths. Chris drags his tongue along the mess on his face, tasting.

Jimmy grumbles something under his breath about “being a menace” and “too fucking hot” before flopping onto the mattress next to Chris. Brady gets up to dispose of the condom but then he’s back and rolling Chris toward the middle of the bed, spooning up behind him. He busses kisses along his back and pulls him into the curve of his body.

“We should go,” he says against Chris’ skin. “If you’re okay.”

He’s sore, but in the best way. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“What number wish was this?” Brady asks as he searches for his clothes.

Chris stretches out like a satisfied cat now that he has the bed to himself. “First.”

Jimmy chuckles, tossing Brady his pants. “Enjoy the rest.”

Chris watches them cover their naked skin piece by piece. Brady leans back in for one last kiss. “See you at skate.” He steers Jimmy out of the room with a hand low on his back, comfortable. The noise of the front door opening and closing isn’t far behind.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” Yenna asks, definitely floating above her lamp.

Chris buries his face in his pillow. He’ll have to think of another wish tomorrow.

And also probably not look Jimmy and Brady in the eye for a couple days.

 

2

 

To be fair, it’s not like Chris has a box full of unfulfilled fantasies lying around so he takes his time thinking about it. He showers and makes himself breakfast, all the while considering his options.

He knows he flushes when he gets to the arena and immediately runs into Jimmy on his way to the locker room. There’s a mouth-shaped bruise on the back on his neck and Chris reaches up to palm at his own, wondering if he has a mark somewhere he can’t see.

“Don’t look so constipated,” Jimmy says. “It was just sex.”

_Just sex_. Right.

Skate isn’t bad so his mind can’t help but wander between drills and stretches and the quick shower he takes. He spends his pre-game nap scrolling through his phone to search for _Top 10 Sexual Fantasies_ lists and Cosmo articles to see if anything sparks his libido.

Most of the lists are boring: being with a man, threesomes, being with someone much older or much younger, orgies, gangbangs…

He thinks he should use a wish on something a little more adventurous. Something a little more outside his comfort zone.

His alarm goes off and he clears his search history before starting his pre-game routine. His decision will have to wait.

By the end of the first period, he realizes that there’s one scenario he can’t get out of his head. One he keeps circling back to as an option, something he’d really enjoy trying out. Something he’s too chicken to ask for with a guy he picks up at a bar.

He wraps his own fingers around his wrist and remembers exactly the way Jimmy’s felt the night before, pinning him to the bed with barely any effort. He wants to feel that again.

They win the game, the first in a while, and a lot of the guys are going out for a few drinks. Chris begs off, much more interested in getting home.

His house is dark and quiet when he gets back and he dumps his things by the front door. He’s not real sure how to get Yenna’s attention, so he turns her lamp on and knocks gently, hoping for the best.

It only takes a few moments for her to squeeze her way out. “Have you decided?”

“I want to be tied up,” Chris says, mustering as much confidence as he can. “I want to…take whatever they give me. I don’t want any say.”

The genie smirks. “I can arrange that. Give me two days.”

 

The man that shows up two days later is tall and fit with beautiful, familiar hair. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“This is Henrik,” Yenna says, appearing over his shoulder. “He’ll be working you over tonight.”

“Yeah, hi. I know him, too.”

“Hello,” Hanke replies.

Chris lets him in and silently curses whatever sex god he’s pissed off.

“Is this okay?”

Chris considers it, runs his fingers through his hair and tugs. “That depends, are you going to tell anyone?”

Henke smiles. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Okay, then.” Chris exhales. “Do your worst.”

Henke tucks his hair behind his ears before leaning in for a soft kiss. “What’s your safeword?”

Chris hadn’t thought about it but he’s quick on his feet. “Hamlet.”

“Okay.” He brushes his hands down Chris’ shoulders to his wrists, circling his fingers around them and squeezing. It almost makes his knees buckle. “Anything you don’t want, you tell me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Henke smirks, shakes his head as he leads Chris toward the bedroom. “Close your eyes.”

Chris complies, standing still in the space next to his bed. He’s not good at waiting but something about Henke makes him. All he can hear is his soft footsteps around the room, a zipper, something being set on the nightstand.

“Good.” He’s behind Chris now and strips him with efficiency, mapping out each new inch of naked skin with his fingers. He traces constellations between his freckles, kisses the base of his spine and the tender skin behind his right knee before slipping his boxers down to his ankles. He steps out of them, balancing with one hand on Henke’s shoulder.

“Get on the bed for me,” he commands. “Flat on your back.”

Chris does as he’s told.

Henke rummages through his bag, the finely-tuned muscles of his back bunching and releasing as he looks for something.

Chris bites back a whine when he sees the dark blue rope.

“Okay?”

Chris nods.

It’s soft when Henke wraps it around his wrists and ties them together above his head. He’s quick to secure Chris’ hands to a slat in his headboard and Chris is just as quick to test the bindings, tugging on the rope hard and then harder still.

Henke smiles. “Does everything feel okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice already rough with arousal. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Should I do your legs as well?” he asks, presenting another long coil of rope. “Or can you be good and keep them open for me?”

He spreads his legs, props them up just like he did for Brady. “I can be good.”

Henke is graceful getting on the bed and settles on his stomach, his big hands pressed to Chris’ inner thighs to keep him open. He’s gentle with his kisses, trailing them down from his knee to the crease of his hip and then further still. Chris gasps when he starts to eat him out, warming him up for his tongue. Getting him sloppy. He gets Chris barreling toward an orgasm as he fucks him with nothing more than his mouth.

Chris’ knees clench tightly around Henke’s shoulders as he feels himself starting to fall over the edge an--

Henke stops. Mouth and tongue and his hands against Chris’ skin gone.

“What? _Why_?”

He has the audacity to smirk from his spot on the bed. “You said you would be good.”

Chris whines, plants his feet back on the mattress and spreads his legs. “I’m sorry.”

“I think it might be best to secure them,” he says. “So you don’t have any more trouble. It won’t take me long.”

Chris watches as he ties intricate knots around his thigh and shin, forcing them to stay bent. Henke disappears over the side of the bed, winding a piece of rope around the slat of his bedframe and attaching it to his knee. He does the same for the other leg, quickly and efficiently rendering Chris immobile.

He feels exposed, every part of him open and on display. Henke could do anything to him in this position, could make Chris take him however he pleased. He throbs at the thought.

“Now, where were we?” Henke asks just before diving back in with his mouth. It takes no time at all to work Chris back up, to get him shaking with the need to come.

The bite of the rope stings when he tries to bring his knees together again and Henke pulls away, leaving him wanting in the worst way. “No!” he cries.

“You are so loud,” he says, tracing a finger along Chris’ inner thigh. “I think I might like it better if you were quiet. Do you think you could do that for me?”

He shakes his head, knowing himself. There’s no way.

“No?” Henke crawls up his body, straddling his hips. He traces the cut of his chin, thumbs at his bottom lip. “Luckily I have something that would look very pretty in this mouth of yours.”

He grabs something off the nightstand, shows it to him. It’s a hard, red ball amongst a tangle of black straps.

A gag.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Chris opens his mouth like an invitation and Henke slips the gag between his teeth. “If you need to safeword, you’ll snap. Show me you can do that.”

He snaps his fingers and Henke latches the gag in place. “Good.”

Henke trails kisses down Chris’ chest, over his nipples. He pulls and pinches them to points before continuing down along his ribs to his hips. He kisses Chris everywhere but where he wants him, his complaints swallowed up by the ball gag. Chris tugs at his hands, desperate to get his fingers into Henke’s perfect fucking hair and direct him lower.

It’s amazingly frustrating.

“You are not patient, are you?” Henke says it casually, sliding a finger through the wetness at the tip of his dick. “Not really into delayed gratification? I guess that makes sense.”

Chris could scream. But instead he thrashes in his bonds, trying to get Henke closer, get him _inside_.

“You’ll get there in the end,” Henke says. “I promise.”

 

Chris loses count of how many times Henke denies him. It might be up to five. Or eight. He wonders if he’s trying to get to ten.

The buzz of the vibrator Henke started using around number four startles him and he sobs when he presses it to the base of his dick again. He’s so close, so desperate for release and he can just feel it begin to crest, to swell up like a tidal wave. He knows Henke’s not going to let him, he _knows_. But his body still hopes, still reaches for it, still…

Henke turns off the vibrator, sets it on the bed. “Do you think you’ve earned it? Have you been good enough for me tonight?” He’s gentle when he wipes at the tears that have dripped down Chris’ cheeks. “Answer me.”

He shakes his head. No, he hasn’t been good at all. He’s been needy and desperate and so very impatient.

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. I think you’ve been very good for me,” he says. “Once I got you tied and gagged.”

Chris whimpers, tries to plead with his eyes.

“So I think you deserve it now. I think you deserve to come on my cock.”

Henke doesn’t waste any time, slipping his briefs down his thighs and sliding into the slick, sloppy mess he’s created. He doesn’t wait to let Chris adjust to his length, grinding in deep right away.

Chris desperately wants to cling to him, to wrap his legs around his hips and hold him close, never let him go. He’s never come like this but he thinks he could get there now, the way Henke’s hitting him so deep.

His whole body is on fire as Henke bites at his neck, his nipples, under the curve of his pec. He’s fucking Chris fast and hard, hips slamming against him as he chases his end.

He tilts his hips just so and Chris is suddenly coming, shaking and shuddering through it, clenching tight around Henke’s cock still deep inside him.

They breathe together, both settling down from the high. Chris cannot believe he just came untouched. He can’t believe he let his goaltender tie him up, that he just saw him drool and cry over how good his dick was.

Henke slips out, his fingers nimbly working on the knots he tied. He rubs at each place they bit into Chris’ skin, slowly circulating feeling back into his limbs.

“You did so well,” he whispers, unclipping the gag and slipping it from between his lips. “You were perfect.”

He wipes at Chris’ face with a small towel, cleaning off the spit and tears. He wipes around his chin and down his neck. The towel trails lower, between his thighs. So, so gentle.

“Can I get you anything?”

Chris isn’t sure his voice works anymore so he shakes his head.

“I’m going to get some water for us. I’ll be right back.”

Chris watches his ass as he leaves and nearly falls asleep before he gets back.

“C’mon, sit up for me.”

Chris drinks the whole glass of water Henke brings him, leans into his side when Henke wraps a firm arm around his shoulders. “Tired.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Chris considers it. “Would it be weird?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you,” Chris says, sinking lower against the pillows.

“Of course.” He clicks the light off before slipping under the covers and curling up against Chris’ back.

 

3

 

It’s forever before Chris can even think about sex again. The team’s schedule has been chaos, leaving on the first of three short road trips a few days after Henke worked him over. They’ve been back for little spurts of two day stretches, barely long enough to get settled before they all have to pack up again. He usually comes home to find the genie on his couch, reading or watching TV. Other nights, when he’s trying to fall asleep, the penis lamp glows a very threatening red.

He knows he has one wish left but he can’t. He just can’t right now.

 

In the meantime, Chris wakes up some mornings thinking of Jimmy and Brady. Other days it’s Henke and his dark blue rope. This morning it was the gag and his jaw feels stiff like he’d been wearing it all night. He’s already hard and it’s easy to lazily work toward an orgasm. He replays the way Henke had fucked him, the way the ropes bit into his skin, the way he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He comes with one hand above his head, gripping a slat of his headboard in a poor imitation of the real thing.

“That was hot,” Yenna says, her head peeking out from the tip of her lamp.

Chris struggles to get the covers over himself, momentarily embarrassed for having been caught.

“You ever gonna pick another wish?”

He considers it, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Soon.”

“Is it work?”

Chris doesn’t really want to talk to a sex genie about the stress of a grueling hockey schedule but, “Yeah. It’s…there’s a lot going on at the moment.”

“Well, think of this wish as the ultimate release,” Yenna says. “Something that would make you feel amazing after a long, hard day at the rink. Something that could make you forget you even had a job.”

“I’m too stressed.” He throws his arms over his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the disappointed face Yenna is giving him.

“Wishes never expire,” the genie says. “But I should warn you, I’m a terrible houseguest to have for long.”

He will keep that in mind.

 

The last day of the very last road trip, Chris rushes home. He knows exactly what he’s going to ask for to celebrate, to release all the tension that’s built up over the past two weeks.

“Public foreplay,” he announces to his empty house. “I want to have to keep quiet while someone turns me on.”

He throws down his bag and kicks off his loafers. He tosses his jacket on the couch and wiggles his tie from around his neck.

“Is that your final answer?” Yenna asks, leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom looking pleased.

Chris nods. “Yes.”

She vanishes with a little puff of golden red smoke and Chris knows the drill by now. It’ll be two days before his wish is granted, but there’s a bottle of wine in the fridge and a dildo in his drawer that he can make do with tonight.

 

As expected, it’s almost exactly 48 hours later when Yenna tells him she has the final date set for Saturday. “It’ll be a nice dinner somewhere overpriced. He’s a man of luxury so I’m sure it’ll be good.”

A flutter of anticipation settles in Chris’s belly. “Thank you.”

Yenna cocks her head. “For what?”

He shrugs. “I guess all of this is your eternal job or whatever but, I don’t know. I just felt like I should thank you. For the wishes. And for being patient.”

“It’s been the best sex of your life, hasn’t it.” It’s not a question. The genie knows.

“Of course it has.” The warm flush of the memories spreads out over his cheeks. “I don’t think anyone’s ever going to compare.”

Yenna scoffs. “Guess you’ll just have to find a love genie for that.”

“A _what?”_ But Yenna is gone, slipping back into her lamp with a giggle.

  
A package arrives on Friday with a handwritten address in scratchy penmanship. Chris opens it immediately, digging into the box to find a sleek, black plug. The only note inside says _wear me_ in the same slanted handwriting.  
It’s surely for the dinner tomorrow night but his curiosity gets the better of him.

He washes the vibrator with unscented soap before spreading himself out on his bed. It’s not big, shouldn’t take too long to warm up to, but he’s impatient, wants to feel it _now_.

The plug slips in and the curve is perfect, pressing the small bullet right against his prostate. He imagines what it will feel like, the vibrator buzzing as he sits in a nice restaurant. He imagines how hard it will be to keep his composure, to not let anyone know what’s going on under the table.

With impeccable timing, the vibrator springs to life and he scrabbles to find purchase on his sheets, to find anything to grab onto, to steady himself as he’s plunged into sudden pleasure.

It stops buzzing almost as quickly as it started, his phone chiming with a text.

_A little bird said you were trying out my gift_

_Hope you like it._

He frowns. He recognizes that number, of course he does, and it’s…it’s too much. It’s someone he actually likes, someone he could see himself with in some twisted reality where he liked him back.

He should have specified to Yenna that he didn’t want a teammate for this. Fuck.

Too late now.

So he debates a response, typing out and erasing a few before settling on _Would like it more if you kept going_. All in.

Mika replies with a devil emoji and a promise. _Let’s save that for Saturday_.

Chris flops back onto his bed and sighs. What is he even doing.

 

Mika shows up in a very nice suit Saturday night. His hair is neatly gelled, a few blond strands standing out in the glow of Chris’ porch light.

“This is just getting ridiculous,” Chris says, mostly to Yenna.

Mika looks offended as he steps into the house. “We’re you expecting someone _better_?”

“I was hoping for a stranger.”

“I can go,” he offers, flopping onto the couch like he owns the place. “If you’re not interested.”

“Are _you_ interested?”

Mika just shrugs. Which isn’t any kind of answer.

“Okay well let me just…put on my shoes.”

As he’s fussing with the thin shoelaces on his dress shoes, the first vibration of the night hits.

“Oh god,” he moans.

Yenna is clearly delighted. “Gonna have to reign that sort of thing in, aren’t we?”

The vibration doesn’t last long, and Chris gets his other shoe on, checking his reflection in the mirror. He looks just like he always does. No one will know. This is going to be the best dinner he’s ever had.

 

The steakhouse is busy when they arrive, but Mika made reservations and they’re led to their table quickly. It’s near the center of the room, just a two-top with a romantic candle in the middle of it, and Chris doesn’t miss how clearly in view they are to everyone else in the restaurant.

“Nice move,” he says, unfolding his napkin and placing it across his lap.

“When a sex genie calls on you to fill a wish, you don’t half-ass it.”

“How many wishes have you granted?”

Mika leans back in his chair, air of confidence swirling around him. “A gentleman never tells.”

“So I’m your first?” Chris can be confident, too.

Mika pulls his phone from his pocket, presses a few buttons, and the vibrator buzzes to life.

Chris’ eyes flutter closed and he breathes through it. “Dirty play.”

Mika laughs. “I do have the upper hand, here.”

Their server arrives to fill their water glasses and introduce the specialties not listed on the menu. Mika orders a bottle of wine and a dozen oysters.

“Maybe I don’t like oysters,” Chris says, just to be obnoxious.

“You literally eat anything. But if you don’t want them, I’ll have all twelve to myself.” He turns the vibrator on, eyes trained on where Chris’s clenching his jaw against the pleasure.

He doesn’t order for Chris when their server returns for their entrees but he does pour him a glass of wine.

“To wishes,” he says, tapping his glass to Chris’.

He’s ready for the vibration this time, melting into the chair as it teases him. He straightens his tie when it’s over, carefully setting his wine back on the table.

“You’re going to be hard to break,” Mika says.

Their server arrives with the oysters and Chris chokes on nothing as the vibrator comes to life again, harder than before. He grips the edge of the table, knuckles going pale. He hopes he hadn’t made a face.  
It only lasts a few seconds but the arousal it leaves behind takes longer to dissipate.

“We’ll get there, though.” Mika dollops some cocktail sauce on an oyster before slurping it out of the shell. “We’ll get there.”

 

Chris nearly comes twice at the table, riding the edge of orgasm as delicately as he can. He knows he’s sweating, face flushed, and hair frizzing and sticking to his neck, but Mika has no mercy. Seems to delight in Chris’ struggle.

He’s working him up again as the dessert menus come out.

“Can I interest you two in one of our pastry chef’s delicacies?” their server asks.

Chris isn’t interested in cake, isn’t interested in anything but getting out of this restaurant without causing a scene, but Mika orders himself a slice of something chocolaty and a cappuccino.

Chris crosses his legs in anticipation of the next round.

Mika presses the button and Chris’s body is wracked with desperate need. He grits his teeth against it but it’s too much. He wants to sigh, to groan, to rock down against his chair, beg Mika to stop, to keep going, to let him cry out loud and showy like he needs. He doesn’t even _care_ how that would look, how embarrassing it would be. He doesn’t care.

The buzzing stops when the cake arrives and Mika holds the first forkful out to him.

Chris takes the bite, gaze never wavering from where Mika is watching him. The cake is good, nice and rich. Decadent. He licks his lips, swallows, hoping underneath the table Mika’s just as affected by this as he is.

When the vibration hits again, it’s both the best and worst fucking thing he’s ever felt. He slams his fork on the table and rolls his eyes back in ecstasy. There’s no way everyone in the restaurant doesn’t know what they’re doing, what he’s got hidden beneath the tablecloth. He just hopes no one recognizes them.

There’s still half of the cake left and Chris nearly comes as Mika finishes it. He wipes his mouth with his napkin, a perfect picture of manners and innocence. “Have you had enough?” Mika asks.

And he has. He should say yes and end the night, thank him for his service and go home to take a nice hot bath. He should make a run for the bathroom and take the vibrator out so he can leave the restaurant with some dignity. But instead, he drinks the last of his wine and smiles. “No.”

Mika seems pleased. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Chris straddles Mika’s lap in the backseat of his expensive car and fucks himself onto his cock. He rides him fast, using his shoulders for leverage. Mika gets his mouth on Chris’ chest, the curve of his neck. He’s sucking and kissing and biting, his big hands firm around Chris’ waist.

He gets fingers up in Chris’ hair, combing through the gel and messing up his dark curls. “You were so hot tonight,” he says against Chris’ skin. “I wonder how many people knew.”

He groans, clenching down around Mika.

“How many people were watching you, waiting for you to come.” He kisses along Chris’ jaw. “It was written all over your face. Anyone who looked at you could see it.”

“Fuck.”

He tilts Chris’ hips, grinds up into him until he sees stars. “The server knew,” Mika says, breath hot along his neck. “I saw him watching us. Saw how hot he thought you were.”

“Oh, god. Please.” He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but he wants it.

Mika gets his mouth around a nipple through the cotton of Chris’ shirt, unbuttoned nearly all the way. His hands slip down to Chris’ ass so he can bounce him on his dick, the sounds of them fucking intensified by his car’s sticky leather seats.

Chris sees a couple coming their way, hand in hand, probably in love. The white SUV next to Mika’s car beeps, unlocking.

“What if my windows weren’t tinted,” Mika gasps. “Fuck, what if they could just see right in. See how desperate you are for my dick.”

Chris whines.

“Would you let them watch?”

_“Yes._ Fuck, yes. Yes.” Chris pulls Mika’s lips to his, kissing him and kissing him until he almost can’t breathe. The white SUV is long gone but he’s still thinking about laying Mika out in the middle of the restaurant. Letting everyone see the way they move together.

“You’re unbelievable.” Mika pushes Chris’ messy hair out his eyes, catches his gaze. “Wanna see what you look like when you come.”

Chris reaches down to get himself off but Mika swats his hands away.

His fingers feel perfect around Chris’ dick, just tight enough to get him to come all over himself almost immediately. He sags against Mika as he tries to come down from the blinding high, unable to hold himself up any longer. Mika’s still hot and hard inside of him and he gets his knees under him to let his dick slip free.

Chris wraps a hand around him, using just the lube left on the condom to get him off. Mika can’t even look, head thrown back on the seat as Chris pulls him to an orgasm. Mika makes a terrible face through it and Chris is glad he finally found a fault after all this time.

He has to kiss him, has to lick the soft groans from his mouth as he shakes through it.

They stay in the backseat, Chris straddled over Mika, for ages. He thinks he could fall asleep like this, half-naked and wrapped up in Mika’s arms, head pillowed on his chest.

“What now?” Mika asks, once he’s gained back enough coordination to strip off the condom.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” It’s bold but Chris would hate himself if he didn’t shoot his shot.

Mika plants a kiss to his temple. “An orgasm wasn’t enough?”

“Maybe I want to see how amazing you are outside of sex.”

He thinks he spots a bit of pink along Mika’s ears. “You already know me. And I can assure you, there’s nothing amazing about me.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” He rolls off him and gets his shirt tugged closed. He’s messy and needs a shower, needs to wash the whole night off his skin. “I’m, personally, very amazing at morning after brunch.”

“I do like to eat.”

“My bed’s pretty comfortable, too.”

Mika’s smile is a little crooked this time, sleepy around the edges. “Good, cause you wore me out.”

 

Chris makes bacon and waffles the next morning and Mika catches him as he starts chopping up some strawberries.

He wraps his arms around Chris from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” Mika looks good fresh from bed, hair a tousled mess and a bit of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw. “I made waffles.”

“I love waffles. And coffee.”

Chris points him to the mugs so he can pour himself a cup. “There’s creamer in the fridge.”

They each make a plate and return to bed, settling up against the headboard to eat. It’s domestic and probably moving way too fast but Chris can’t find a reason to stop it.

It’s not long before Mika steals a piece of his bacon and Chris retaliates by popping one of his strawberries into his mouth. Mika chases the sweetness of the berry with his tongue, kissing him with no rush or agenda.

It’s practically perfect.

“I have a proposition for you,” Chris says, breakfast plates long abandoned in lieu of kisses.

“Hm?”

“How would you like to be the new owner of a lamp.” He nods to the corner where Yenna’s lamp still sits. “I’ve used up all my wishes.”

“So have I.”

“Yeah, but the contract didn’t say I had to give the lamp to someone who wasn’t a previous owner. Just that I had to pass it on.”

Mika’s hands slip down Chris’s side, curving around his ribs and resting on the swell of his hip. “And what am I supposed to do with a sex lamp?”

“Whatever you want,” he says with a devilish smile.

 

+1

 

Chris is not expecting company when his doorbell rings the next evening, but he’d be lying if he said he was surprised to see the pair on his stoop.

“I shouldn’t be shocked that you found a way to shirk the rules,” Yenna says, looking almost fuchsia in the fading sunlight.

Chris smiles. “I didn’t see anything in the contract that indicated this was against the rules.”

Yenna sighs dramatically. “Just take him and blow his mind. I assume we’ll be seeing each other every two days or so since I won’t have to go looking for anyone better suited to his needs.”

Mika looks sheepish as he steps over the threshold, hands stuffed in his pockets. “She wasn’t very happy to see me.”

Chris wraps his arms around his shoulders to give him a kiss. “Yeah, but I am.”

Mika chases his lips, cornering him against the entryway wall. He gets his hands on Chris’ ass, hips pressed against his.

“So,” Chris says, when they finally come up for air. “How can I serve you tonight?”

Mika’s ears go a vibrant shade of pink, but he leans in close to whisper his wish to him.

“Oh, Mr. Zibanejad!” he gasps in fake outrage. “What kind of boy do you take me for?”

He shrugs but a little bit of confidence bleeds back into his stance. “One that already has a dildo stashed in his bedside table.”

 


End file.
